He's Still a Prat
by HerNameWasEponine
Summary: Eponine and Enjolras have a bit of a rough start...coffee shop AU I was told to write. Eponine/Enjolras, mentions of Cosettte/Marius, Cosette/Eponine friendship (to a degree), Marius/Eponine friendship, one-sided Marius/Eponine initially.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So a friend of mine told me to write a coffeeshop AU for one of my ships to help me get back into writing, so I kinda barfed something out and here it is. I know coffeeshop AUs for Enjonine are kinda overused, in their own wonderful way, but I didn't get any other prompts, so I apologise for the unoriginality. I guess this is kinda a competition of book!verse and musical!verse, and if the characters seem OOC to you, please tell me, I'm still trying to work with them and shape them and I'm literally sat here writing with my book open on my lap but I feel kinda uneasy about it still. And yeah, I haven't written in a long time and uploaded in even longer so sorry it's so bad, I'm beyond rusty. Reviews are so so so so so welcome.**

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"Black coffee," mumbled Eponine absentmindedly as she checked her phone. Still no word from Gavroche. He had run off again, probably spent all night sleeping on the streets. She had to admit, it was better than home, but she worried about him so much, out there in the cold. She could hardly think, her mind was so cluttered with images of him trying to start fights with kids three times his size, or worse, adults.

"Coming right up" sighed the barista grumpily, rolling his eyes not-so-subtly. Éponine looked up from her screen just in time to catch him.

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?" she asked, her impatience rising. Normally she was pretty sympathetic to employees -having been raised in a tavern- but today was not the day to try and push her.

"None at all, your highness," the man grumbled sarcastically. "Here's your coffee. That'll be €3.21."

Barely hiding an angry huff, Éponine grabbed her coffee and shoved over four euros. "Keep the change," she muttered, and disappeared behind the line and back to the small table by the window where Cosette was waiting.

"Why are you all upset?" the other girl asked, raising an eyebrow at Éponine's annoyed expression.

"The barista was a dick," she replied, quickly clearing her face with a small smile.

"Ooh, I know him," Cosette said, peering over the heads of the other customers to catch a glimpse of the prat. "He's one of Marius's friends. He's this super-political guy, leader of this big club, huge activist. He's always trying to get me to come to one of his rallies." A mischievous look flashed in the girl's eyes as a cheesy smile danced on her lips. "You know, he's also very, very handsome."

Éponine had to fight not to roll her eyes. "Yes, he's a very handsome prick. But he's still annoying."

Now that she thought about it, Éponine _did _know the boy. He had pulled the same thing on her when she went with Marius to that bar of his. Didn't like him much then either. Tried to tell her she was a victim of oppression, that he could liberate her from her suffering. Okay, he was handsome, she could admit that, with his blonde waves and blue eyes, a jaw that could cut glass, and those cheekbones…but he was still rude.

Suddenly Cosette perked up, her face lighting up like a star. Éponine didn't know eyes could even go that wide. "Oh my God, Éponine, I just _have _to tell you about what Marius did last night. It was so romantic! I came home and-"

Éponine sighed softly as she brought the coffee cup to her lips, allowing herself to zone out. She was trying, she really was. For Marius. And Cosette was nice, and she wasn't as girl-next-door prepster as she came off. Éponine actually enjoyed her company. It was just so hard, hearing her go on and on about 'Marius did this' and 'Marius did that' and 'On Valentine's Day, we did this…'. Not to mention, she wasn't exactly shy about their sex life either. Why did they both have to be so oblivious? Why couldn't they see how hard this was for her? Every time she saw them together it felt like a dagger through her gut, every time they talked about each other so fucking happily it was another wound to her, their words lashing like whips. The only benefit was that they were so oblivious that even her glares and attempts to not listen went unnoticed as they fawned in each other's glory.

Éponine leaned her head against the window, letting the Parisian sun warm her face. She knew she looked disgusting -her long black hair was tied atop her head to hide how greasy it was, she had deep purple rings under her eyes due to working through the nights, and her even her sun-tanned skin couldn't hide the dirt caked on her face. She was used to looking like this, sure, but sitting here next to Cosette, beautiful Cosette, clean, glowing, fresh-faced Cosette; she suddenly felt like trash left out on the pavement.

_Well that's what you are, isn't it? _breathed a voice in her head. _Marius didn't want you. Your parents don't want you. Even Montparnasse grows tired of you. You're just the scum of the street now; little Éponine the Princess is gone._

"Éponine? Éponine!?"

The concerned edge to her friend's usually soft voice brought Éponine back to reality. With a jump she snapped back to see Cosette leaning forward, brow furrowed in a mixture of concern and confusion.

"Oh…sorry. I'm just…tired," she lied as Cosette returned to her relaxed position. A frown crossed the blond's face.

"Were you working again last night?"

Cosette didn't know half of Éponine's situation, but Éponine suspected Marius had told her quite a bit without her knowledge. And while their lives had been very different then, Cosette had lived with her parents as a foster child when she was younger. She knew exactly how cruel the Thenardiers could be.

"No, I was-" Éponine stopped herself before another lie could tumblr off her tongue. What was the point of it anymore? She was stuck with Cosette, she might as well be honest with her. "I was looking for my brother. He keeps on running off by himself and won't keep me updated on where he is."

Suddenly a small, soft hand like velvet was on Éponine's calloused paws. Cosette smiled up at her, her face the beacon of sympathy and hope, as ever. _How did she manage to do that? _Éponine thought._ Just look like such a little angel no matter what?_

"We'll find him," she reassured Éponine. "Marius and I will help you. And you know Gavroche has always been the smartest kid on the streets."

Éponine allowed herself a small smile to return, feeling, dare she say it, a tiny bit of friendship towards the girl? Well, a work in progress maybe.

"You know, Marius says the boys are having a get together at Musain again tonight," Cosette told her, daintily sipping her chai latte. "No politics, just genuine hanging out. You should come. I don't want to be alone with the sausage fest, and I don't know Musichetta very well. Besides," Cosette added with an evil grin, "Maybe Mr Handsome Prick will be there."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for all your reviews and follows, they seriously made my day. You don't even know how happy I got when I saw people actually liked this.**

**This chapter took a few days cos it was a pain to write, but I saw it as a necessary evil. I actually kinda like the direction I took it in by the end, but it was like typing through syrup to get started. I'm hoping now is when it can pick up. Enjolras is a little OOC in some parts, I know, but I figured if I didn't let him loosen up just a little for thirty seconds we'd never get anywhere with this, and Modern!Enjolras probably would be slightly more lenient than an Enjolras living among peasants literally dying in the streets. I was going to stick with a mostly Eponine centred from the third person, but it occasionally drifts into hinting at some other characters thoughts. If anyone asks about the mixed lingo/spellings, it's a result of being a Brit in the US for 2/3 of my life and of spellcheck changing all my words to the American spellings. So don't get confused that I say sweater and then colour.**

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"This is just embarrassing," Éponine mumbled to herself as she dug through her closet. Cosette was urging her to look nice, but what nice things did she have? Stained clothes from thrift shops and charities, some very, very used hand-me-downs, and none of it had been washed in days or weeks. Admittedly, she _had _showered, so that counted as effort. She didn't have water because her landlord was a jackass who couldn't wait one more bloody day for his rent and cut her off for the week, but Cosette let her use the shower at her flat, and even blow-dried her hair for her. Éponine suspected she was still trying to get close to her, despite spending nearly every day together for the past week. But no matter how clean her hair was, she was still stuck with looking like a slob.

_What do I care if I look bad? _she thought. _I'm just hanging out with the guys at Musain. It's not like Marius is gonna magically leave Cosette for you cos you put on a skirt._

She was lying if she said no part of her held on to that belief, she knew that, but she hated herself every minute for it. _Time to move on, 'Ponine, time to move on._

With a sigh of defeat, she dragged out her favourite black sweater. At least with black you couldn't see the stains. The thinly-knitted garment clung to her well, and left just a strip of tanned skin exposed between the hem and the waistband of her jeans. She laced her boots up to her mid-calf, hoping the thick rubber soles and peeling toe didn't reveal their age. If there was one thing Éponine hated, it was being pitied, even from afar.

She made an attempt at dabbing concealer under her eyes and on any bruises that could show. She had nearly perfected the art- by the time she was done with her makeup, you could hardly see the signs of her misery even upon close inspection. With a final huff, she left the shithole she called a flat and made her way down to the bar.

"'Ponine!" exclaimed a familiar -and slurred- voice. Éponine looked up to see Marius's grinning face coming towards her, arms extended in greeting. Without warning, he grabbed her hand and swung her in a circle, bumping her into several people around her. She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled from her throat.

"You're drunk, Pontmercy," she told him with a smirk as he let her go.

"Isn't that the point?" he asked, taking another bottle off someone she didn't recognise. He disappeared back into the crowd with a "WOO!" at no one in particular.

"I am so sorry," laughed Cosette as she came out to Éponine's side. "Grantaire…well, he showed up and this happened."

Éponine smiled. "It's fine, I get it. Grantaire will be Grantaire. Keep an eye on Marius, though, you know how he can get when he drinks."

She pushed herself through the crowd, a small smile staying on her lips as her friends whooped and hollered around her, swinging drinks and falling over. She was glad they were having fun, they deserved it. Apparently that barista of theirs had been working them like dogs with this North Korean human rights protest, and this was their first chance at actually enjoying themselves in weeks. Cosette had been moaning about how she hadn't seen Marius at all.

Finally she came out the other end, or rather tripped out, a giggle slipping out of her as she grabbed herself on the sofa.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to work."

A feeling of dread arose in Éponine as she recognised the voice. _Him._

"I'm sorry that I offended you with my happiness," she sneered, sarcasm dripping so thickly off her words it was nearly visible.

Barista Boy rolled his eyes dramatically, then continued on with his work. He was sitting on the red velvet sofa in the back corner of the room, legs relaxed on the rickety coffee table in front of him, ankles crossed. He had his computer on his lap, and he was typing feverishly, brow furrowed in concentration. His slender fingers danced over the keys, flying faster than she'd ever seen anyone typed. She watched him for a few seconds, somewhat enthralled by the way he stuck out the tip of his tongue as he worked, the way he could snap in and out of his trance so easily.

"So is there a reason you're so rude to everyone?" Éponine asks, knowing that the question will only anger him yet asking anyway. Marius had always told her that she never knew when to stop talking.

The incessant typing stopped, his slender fingers frozen above the keys. Slowly he raised his eyes to her, annoyance radiating from his every pore.

"Because I dislike being interrupted when I'm actually trying to do something of importance," he sneered, but didn't return to his screen. His eyes remained locked with hers; jaw clenched like iron, hair falling carelessly into his eyes, muscles frozen solid.

"You got a name?" Éponine asked, taking the seat across from him uncaringly.

"Enjolras," he responded blankly, fingertips still hovering above the keys; not quite engaging, yet not quite cutting her out.

He was perhaps the only person who came close to looking as tired as Éponine. Bags hung thickly under his eyes and a shadow was spreading across his chin; the unnatural tremor to his movement showed the telltale signs of energy drinks. Everything about him, from his severe posture to the way he clipped his words, revealed a man more straight-laced than any Éponine had ever met. He was dressed cleanly, with a light-blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled carefully up to his elbows, each side a perfect mirror of the other, and a pair of dark blue jeans that looked expensive. Still, he had a disheveled appearance, the look of a man who saw sleep as a nuisance and an interruption. Everything about him screamed business.

She was about to ask him another question when Grantaire burst into the room. "Éponine!" he exclaimed, empty bottle of wine in one hand and a corkscrew in the other. His eyes had the wide, wild look of, well, trademark drunk Grantaire. The stench of alcohol on him could be smelt from across the room, his hair flew in every direction. His shirt was partially unbuttoned and an unhealthy enthusiastic smile spread across his face. Éponine gave him a smile, but moved away when he went to hug her. She knew by now to keep her distance.

"Hooow did you get 'im to stahp wehrkin?" he slurred, staring wide-eyed at Enjolras's frozen frame. "He nevrr stops wzrking. Dis wun time, we wurr-"

"-Grantaire," Enjolras interjected sharply, head snapping up to look at his friend. "Don't you think it's time I take you home?"

The finality in his tone made it very clear that Grantaire had little choice in the matter.

"I'm sure he can take care of himself," Éponine countered, turning to look at Enjolras. Something about him made her desperate to challenge him, to push him, and she found herself staring into his eyes with a copy of his condescending smirk. "Let him have a little fun."

Grantaire cocked his head and smiled at her with pressed together lips, causing his cheeks to puff out like a child. "Ay love you Pony."

"I love you too, as long as you never call me Pony again."

"You don't know him like I do. I know when he needs to stop," Enjolras insisted, looking at his friend with disapproval. With a heavy sigh, Enjolras rose from his seat on the sofa and towards Grantaire. "Come on, you old drunk," he muttered as he slid an arm around him to keep him steady. "Time to get you back home before you do something stupid."

Éponine could have sworn she saw him whisper "or someone" under his breath. Suppressing a smile, she got up from her chair as well, sliding towards the two boys.

"Please, let me help," she offered earnestly. "I'm not having any fun here anyway."

He looked at her suspiciously for a few moments before mumbling a reluctant "fine." She followed him out to his car, wrapping Grantaire's arm around her shoulders to help keep him steady. They slowly laid him down in the backseat, strapping him down as best they could with the seat belts so he wouldn't hurt himself.

"Do I know you?" Enjolras asked her casually as they began to drive. "You seem to be holding a grudge against me."

"Well, you _did _act like a shithead to me this morning," she explained. "All I wanted was coffee, you know."

Realisation spread across his face after several moments, smoothing the confused wrinkle between his eyebrows. "You were the girl holding up my line."

"Holding up your line? I took three seconds!"

"You couldn't take your eyes off your phone!"

"Because-" Éponine started angrily, nearly spitting out the truth before catching herself. "I had something important to keep track of," she explained calmly, relaxing back into her seat. Enjolras raised a curious eyebrow, but asked no further questions on the matter.

"I've seen you before, though," he continued, somewhat intentionally changing the subject. "You look familiar."

A light blush spread across Éponine's cheeks. Of course he recognised her. Before she even talked to Marius, she would find excuses to be wherever his friends went, lurking in the corners of Musain, watching from afar. Once they became friends, she still hung around, but not nearly as much for fear of him seeing her and asking why she was there. She had hoped no one had noticed her.

"I'm Marius's friend," she murmured, not quite sure why she has as embarrassed as she was.

"Éponine, I gather," Enjolras stated flatly, looking over at her from the corner of his eye. She returned a simple nod.

The rest of the car ride was silent for all but Grantaire's snoring. Enjolras and Éponine formed a comfortable silence; a mutual agreement of peace between them, perfectly possible to break but without reason to. They pulled up to Grantaire's building, helped him up and to his flat, and continued back down together with few words between them.

"I live close to here," Éponine lied hurriedly as he opened the passenger door for her. "I can walk home."

_Please don't ask where I live, please please please don't try and be a gentlemen, _she internally pleaded, wanting to save herself the humiliation. She knew men like him. Once she found out what kind of neighbourhood she was living in, he'd be Enjolras to the Rescue of the poor, innocent Éponine. The very last thing she wanted from anybody.

Mercifully unquestioning, Enjolras shrugged off the response and climbed alone into the sleek vehicle, leaving Éponine on the pavement. Through the window, she could see him morph back into the Enjolras she stumbled upon in Musain. Now free of distractions, his game face was back. Éponine smiled to herself at the ease of his transition as she started the mile and a half walk home.

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**Hope you guys liked this. If you want to see a certain character/couple/whatever, feel free to leave a review saying "Oh can you add in some E/R drama" or whatever, I'm always 100% open to it. Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am very, very, very sorry for how long this took. I had total writer's block, and then there was this surge of Enjonine hate on tumblr, and it's hard to write when you're being called a homophobic bigot trying to deny the canon and seeing death threats fill up your tag. I'm not entirely proud of this chapter, I must admit, and I'm a little reluctant to post it, but I think I've edited it to death and I can't wait any longer to update, I'd feel too guilty. Hopefully it isn't as awkwardly written as I thought it was.**

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It was 3 in the morning when Éponine finally got the call she'd been awaiting.

For four days now Éponine had been snapping into alert every time the phone rang, every text, every email, every time she saw a little blonde boy on the street. He'd been gone for longer, of course, but there was no way of checking up on him. What if he got into a fight and got seriously hurt? What if a car hit him? What if her father finally hit just a little too hard? The last thought turned her blood to ice within her veins.

When the phone rang, her eyes snapped open so quickly you wouldn't had ever known she was sleeping. It took a fraction of a second to have the phone slammed against her ear, gripping it as if it were the boy himself.

"'Ponine?" came a small whimper from the other side. Éponine's heart lurched as if it were trying to climb up her throat. Gavroche didn't whimper. Ever.

"Gavroche, please tell me you're okay," she pleaded, throwing the thin sheet off of her. "Tell me where you are, I'll come get you right now-"

"'Ponine, I'm fine," her brother quickly reassured her. "I just, uh…got into a little bit of trouble. But I'm with a man and-"

"You're with _who_?" she shrieked, a thousand more visions of kidnappers, murderers, and paedophiles swarming her mind. "You can't just go off with strangers, Gavroche!"

"But Marius knows him! He told him to look after me!"

A small ripple of relief washed through Éponine. Marius's friend. They were all -mostly- trustworthy. Even Grantaire wouldn't be that bad with Gavroche, right? Her shaking hands reached for jeans and a jacket to change into, but they dropped with every jerky movement.

_Breathe, 'Ponine. He's okay, he's with one of Les Amis. He can take care of himself perfectly well, and now he's off the streets, this is good._

"He says we're on Rue de Maubeuge, number 117, if you want to come get me now. If you need to sleep, he says he'll keep me here happily, but I told him you'd be worrying."

_Damn right I'd be worrying._

Finally, she made her way out the door, the phone still at her ear even though neither of them were saying a word. She flew into a taxi and gave quick instructions, ignoring the driver's stares at her jumbled attire and wild eyes.

In the cab, she let herself calm down. This was always the way it went- Gavroche did his vanishing act, Éponine panicked, the panic grew the longer he stayed gone, then finally he came home and she smothered him. Every other time, she was very good at not playing his mother. Big sister, unofficial guardian (for now), but never his Maman. But he would be damned if she didn't fuss like a mother wolf every time he decided to spend a little time away from home.

"Looking for someone?" came a vaguely familiar voice the moment she stepped out of the cab. Éponine looked up to find a dark figure leaning against the door to the apartment building, hands gripping the shoulders of a much smaller boy.

"Gavroche!' she cried, rushing forward to gather her brother into her arms. She swore she could hear his eye roll.

"I found him in the alleyway by the cinema on my way home from Musain," the man told her. "Marius told me to keep a lookout for him."

Éponine finally raised her eyes to the man, barely able to place his voice in her frenzy. "Courfeyrac," she breathed at the sight of his face, a smile parting her face.

"Your boy here was getting the shit kicked out of him. Don't worry, I patched him up," he added as Éponine started frantically examining her brother for injuries. "You should probably have Joly take a look at him in the morning, though, he could be sick."

"I can't thank you enough," she said once more. "Honestly, I was worried sick."

"Why don't you come up?" Courfeyrac suggested with a half-hearted shrug. "I don't have anything to do anyway, and the kid was half-done with his hot chocolate. Plus it's freezing out here."

Éponine's pride and sensibility teamed up to tell her to get back home, but a warm flat and a hot drink sounded too good to pass up right now. She followed him up to his flat, keeping Gavroche's hand firmly gripped in her own. She had never pretended to be shy, and Courfeyrac was someone she had met more than a few times. Why not take advantage of his accommodation a little?

"I'll put the kettle on," Courfeyrac muttered. "Make yourself at home."

Éponine had never known Courfeyrac very well. They knew each other's name, saw each other occasionally, but always through Marius. Grantaire was the only member of Les Amis who she had really warmed up to. For everyone else, she was still Marius's shadow; the little dog following him at his heels. No companionship, no bad blood, just the girl standing in the corner.

"So I guess you'd like to know what he was doing?" he asked, handing her a cup of tea as he sat down opposite her.

"I don't want to, but I guess I have to," she joked, letting the mug warm her hands.

"He was fighting with some guy in the back alley. Claimed he was pickpocketing him. I told him that impossible, he's just a kid, but-"

"Courf, why the hell are you still up? You know I have a 7 AM class tomorrow."

Courfeyrac broke off mid-sentence, eyes moving from Éponine to the man behind her. "Excuse my roommate," he apologised cooly, keeping his eyes on him. "He's not one for tact."

She recognised the disgruntled tone instantaneously. There was nothing more recognisable about her Barista Boy than annoyance. She turned around in her seat to find him standing about ten feet behind her, half of his hair flattened by sleep and the other half sticking straight out from his head. His eyes were only half-open, and yet they performed his glare so perfectly. Plaid pyjama pants dressed his legs, while his top half remained bare- a sight that was admittedly difficult for Éponine to keep her eyes away from.

_So he does sleep, _she thought, thinking back to the last time she saw him. The purple rings under his eyes, however, still remained.

"I'm sorry," she told him flatly. "I didn't know."

"Why is there a child in my kitchen?" Enjolras carried on, ignoring her apology. _So he's not changed then._

"Just returning Éponine's brother to her," Courf explained, mouthing a quick 'Sorry' to Éponine. She smiled at him to let him know she wasn't upset. "Sorry for waking you, Enj, just go back to bed, we'll be quieter."

"Actually," Éponine interjected. "I should be on my way anyway. I'm sorry for disturbing you both."

Waving off Courf's protests, she ushered her brother out the door. As soon as they were down the stairs and out of the building, she grabbed him by the shoulders and knelt down to his level.

"Gavroche," she whispered. "I need you to be honest with me. Who did this to you?"

Even in the dark, she could see the fresh bruises spreading across his skin. He of course played it cool around Courfeyrac, but she felt him wince when she hugged him, she could see the way he was moving carefully to avoid further injury. Even Gavroche wasn't invincible, as much as he pretended he was.

"Was it the Patron-Minette?" she asked softly, holding her brother's face in hers. He just stared at her, not saying a word.

"Forget about it 'Ponine," he muttered eventually, taking her hands off his face. "If it'll make you happy, I'll stay with you tonight, just…please stop."

Every cell in Éponine's body screamed for her to keep questioning him, but she knew she would never get any information out of him. With a heavy sigh, she laced her fingers in his and walked him back home.

From that night on, Courfeyrac practically adopted Gavroche. When Éponine accidentally let slip that she didn't know what to do with him while she worked, he ran forward to volunteer as babysitter. He played with him, made him his dinner, they became completely inseparable.

* * *

"He even got him to go back to school," Éponine told Marius, barely believing her words. "And managed to stop his teachers from getting suspicious."

"You're kidding," Marius insisted, corners of his mouth curling into an unbelieving smile. _Are you trying to kill me? _Éponine couldn't help but think.

"Yeah. Gavroche actually likes him. I know, I was shocked too. But it's such a blessing. My parents haven't noticed he's missing, and as long as Courf's around, he's happy to stay with me," Éponine confided in him, raising her mug to her lips. The pair were in the middle of Enjolras's coffee shop, thankfully on one of his days off.

"And what about you?" Marius asked her, his expression and tone slipping into seriousness. It was a face she knew well, and her excuses began preparing themselves. "I'm not blind Éponine, I saw the bruises. I thought you were staying away from your father?"

"Leave it alone, Marius, I'm fine," she reassured him, staring down into her drink. "They're old, more than a week."

"'Ponine, I-"

"No," she interrupted him, a sudden defensive anger rising inside of her. "I don't care what you have to say, I'm a grown woman, I can and will take care of myself."

He reached across the table to take her hand in hers. _Oh please no, do not do this to me._

"I'm sorry, Éponine," he apologised, looking her in the eye with sincerity. Butterflies began to beat their wings inside of her, and she had to fight the blush rising to her cheeks. "I've missed you, the last thing I want is for us to fight."

He held her gaze for a moment before giving her a small smile. She smiled back, accepting the peace offering.

"Onto other news," he continued seamlessly obviously trying to wave away the previous discomfort, "I heard Enjolras wasn't happy with you and Courf?"

"Why are you friends with him?" Éponine asked with a sigh, frustration rising at the mere sound of his name. He had been civil to her one night, maybe, but every other occasion had him either ignoring her or being flat-out rude. Rude to everyone, in fact.

"Look, he's having a rough week. He's actually a pretty charming guy," Marius explained. "Sure, he's a bit…serious, but he's much nicer than the impression he's giving you. As are you, might I add."

"What do you mean?" Éponine asked defensively, the razor-sharp edge to her voice only proving his point.

"You're being a little harsh," he shrugged, subconsciously moving slightly backwards and out of her reach. "What happened to the perky 16-year-old who delivered me her father's letter? You were running around showing off that day, with this desperation to please. I miss that."

_Desperation to please. _The phrase slapped Éponine across the face, leaving its sting across her cheeks, bringing her rage to rise. She didn't need reminding of her desperation to please. Trailing after Marius showing off how she could read and write, talking about how she went to the theatre and was cultured; how she would go up to her father during one of his scams and show him how cold she had made her skin, how hungry she looked, how she was obeying him so well; how she would flirt with a murderer because he was the only one who gave her the time of day. Yes, Éponine was very aware of her 'desperation to please'. Unfortunately for Marius, no part of her was striving to return to it.

"I grew up, M'sieur," she told him with a forced smile. He raised an eyebrow at the old title, but said nothing.

"How's your sister?" he asked, once more changing the topic. It wasn't odd for him to jump from conversation to conversation, you couldn't talk about anything without him jumping in with a tale of his day or something he saw, but there was something odd about how quickly he was flitting back and forth.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, her usual wall surrounding her once more. Marius sighed to himself. Éponine had always been guarded, and he was blessed he was usually able to get through her defenses as well as he did, but there was always a limit.

"I want to help you, 'Ponine," he pleaded. "I want to help your family. Please don't do this."

Éponine stared into her coffee, finding herself unable to look into his eyes. With a heavy sigh, she lowered her defensive front. "Courf…he said that when he found 'Roche, he was being beat up by some guy. Gav won't say a word, but I know something is wrong, Marius. And-"

"-you think it's your father's gang."

"I don't think," Éponine corrected him. "I know. And I think I know who it is as well."

"And if he gets hold of Azelma…"

"Then she goes down the same path I did."

Marius leaned back against his seat with a heavy sigh. "Bloody hell, Éponine."

"I can't let him near her, Marius," she almost whispered, her desperation leaking into her voice. "But she's only 15, I can't get her out of that house either. My mother will notice if she leaves, she doesn't want to let her go."

"Couldn't you file for custody?" Marius asked. "You're over eighteen."

"A barely eighteen-year-old girl with a job that has me out at unpredictable hours that barely pays, whose been lying about her age for two years, has her own fair share of legal troubles, and whose parents could probably convict her of kidnapping if they had the mind to," Éponine added with a snort. "That'll go well."

"Please don't do anything rash, 'Ponine," Marius pleaded calmly. "You don't have to do things on your own anymore. You have me, and Cosette, and Les Amis. Just come to Musain tonight, I beg of you."

"I really don't think-"

"No parties, no revolutions, no political debates, just us. Please, Éponine. For me."

_Dammit Marius, _Éponine cursed as she squirmed beneath his gaze. He has to be doing it intentionally by now.

"I'll see if I can stop by," she promised him with a small smile. "I have to go, I'm sorry."

She plucked her bag off her chair and hurriedly excused herself, waving him a polite goodbye as she scattered out the door. As she rounded the corner, she leant against the cool brick wall. With a deep breath, she slowly pulled out a crumpled note, hands shaking slightly as she smoothed the cigarette-burnt paper

"Man up, Éponine," she muttered to herself, shoving the note back into her pocket. "You know what you have to do."

* * *

**A/N: Ooh, what could Éponine be up to? I know you guys were probably expecting Enjolras to pick up Gav, but I figured Courf/Gav is wonderful, and also the Courf/Éponine shipper in me really wanted to give them a bromance. Sorry if Marius seems a little OOC, I struggled with writing him. As much as I do love to make fun of him, I think he really is centred around caring for people, and I really like their friendship, so yeah, I wanted to put that in there. Sorry the two parts don't really match, but they both felt too short on their own. I'm hoping to update again as soon as possible, once I get my schoolwork sorted. If you're lucky, I may upload again tonight. Or unlucky, depending on your viewpoint, but I'm hoping you guys'll see it as lucky.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPLOADING WHEN I SAID I WOULD. Seriously, I feel horrible whenever I upload a chapter late. Hopefully this (albeit short) chapter is good enough to make you forgive me.**

**Disclaimer: I own no part of Les Miserables. I don't profit at all from his. I also have no knowledge of medicine, Paris, or France, so I'm pulling all of this out of my ass.**

* * *

"_MARIUS! JOLY! COME QUICK!_"

Éponine heard the heavily muffled shouts as if she were underwater. With great effort, she attempted to peel open her eyelids, but even the tiniest movement made pain stab through her body, pinching every nerve. A deep rasp ripped through her chest, burning her throat. Through the tiny slits that her eyelids allowed, she saw a flicker of movement in response to the sound.

"Éponine, you're alive," breathed a voice in relief. "Hold on Éponine, just wait for Joly to get here, he can help you."

"Marius," she managed to croak, gritting her teeth as she felt another wave of pain ripple through her. "I want Marius."

The heavy patter of footsteps grew louder and louder as they drew near, the sound thrumming in her ears. Every sound had a faint echo, beating through her head like a drum.

"'Ponine!" yelled a familiar voice, the deep sound bringing a smile to her face. She felt him wrap his arms around her, gathering her up like a child.

"Don't you fret, M'sieur Marius," she breathed. "I don't feel any pain."

"She's in shock, Marius," came a clinical voice above her, the only steady sound in the symphony of shouts and gasping breaths that surrounded her. "We have to get her inside, the rain will give her pneumonia."

"A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now," she laughed weakly, her shaky chuckle transforming into barking coughs. A second pair of arms slid underneath her and helped Marius hoist her into the air and carry her.

Suddenly she stopped feeling the tickle of rain on her raw skin, replaced by a thick warmth that hugged her like a blanket. Marius and the other man lowered her down onto a table as slowly as they could. She still couldn't help but wince as her bruises met the wood.

"We really have to get her to a hospital," urged the steady voice. "She needs immediate help."

"No!" Éponine croaked, scrambling to try and raise herself. Marius and the other man instinctively lunged to keep her down, but she could hardly blink, let alone sit up.

"She can't go to a hospital," Marius explained. "She has no money, and a record."

"Marius, we have no other choice. She'll die before dawn with her blood loss."

"No, I can't, they'll…they'll" grumbled Éponine in protest, the words drawing the energy from her body with every sound.

"Ssh, Éponine, I'm going to take care of you," Marius promised. "Just relax."

She opened her mouth to protest, but was cut short was blackness draped over her.

* * *

"She's stabilizing. Her wounds are vicious, but she should be waking up soon."

A flood of bright light burned Éponine's eyes as she slowly opened them, causing a low groan to roll from her throat.

"Oh my God, she's awake."

"Thank _goodness_."

"Is she okay? 'Ponine, are you okay?"

"Éponine, can you hear us?"

"Give her some space, boys, really."

She felt a small hand take hold of hers, the familiar velveteen touch awakening recognition.

"Éponine, can you hear me?" Cosette asked softly. "Do you need me to get Joly?"

She turned her head slowly to see the girl beside her, concern contorting her doll-like face. She was surrounded by Les Amis, but they had retreated from her bedside and were now huddled in the corners, anxiously staring at her.

"Why do I feel heavy," she mumbled. "I can't…I can't lift my arms."

"It's the painkillers," Cosette told her. "You're going to feel a little bit strange, but this way you won't feel the pain."

She was right, Éponine couldn't feel anything, but she felt like she was looking at everything through frosted glass.

"Where am I?" she asked, her brain shrouded in fog. She was aware enough to see Cosette glance nervously over at the boys.

"You're in the hospital, Éponine," she told her slowly. "Joly's hospital. He took you here after Enjolras found you."

The heart monitor's rapid beep filled the room as her heart rate climbed with panic. "No, no, they'll find out who I am, they'll call the police, please Cosette-"

"If anyone asks," Marius interrupted, rushing to her side to hold her down, "you're Courfeyrac's sister. We took care of everything, 'Ponine, and Joly's helping. No one knows you're a Thénardier."

Éponine allowed her breathing to slow and tentatively rested back against her pillows, but was still unable to shake off her nervous fidget as her eyes started darting back and forth throughout the room.

"I need you all to get out," Joly informed them flatly as he walked into the room, eyes glued to the chart in his hand. "Doctor's orders."

"Med student's orders," Bossuet grumbled as he rolled his eyes, kissing his boyfriend's cheek on the way out. The rest of the boys and Cosette followed suit, some muttering goodbyes or 'feel better's. Eventually it was just Joly and Éponine left in the room.

Éponine never knew Joly very well, but she liked him. Sure, he was weird- he carried around hand sanitizer everywhere, refused to go outside if it was raining, seemed to always have a pair of latex gloves on him, and legitimately wore a mask around during flu season- but he had never been anything less than kind to her, and she appreciated that.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her with a tight smile, slowly making his way over to her bedside. She could practically feel the discomfort radiating off of him.

"Fuzzy," she replied honestly. "Like someone gave me a bath in whiskey."

"Well that can't be the case," he reassured her. "We don't let Grantaire in here without supervision."

She couldn't help but chuckle at that, and in return he flashed her a warm smile. _Something is definitely up, _she thought. His smiles were punctuated with an obvious attempt to seem nonchalant, and his eyes gauged her every facial expression. People being uncomfortable around her was nothing new, no one ever liked being left standing next to a too-thin girl dressed in rags while they were in couture jeans, but this…this was something other than the usual guilty shuffle. Joly looked like a man being forced to walk the plank.

"Éponine," he began slowly, emphasizing every syllable. He was very careful to keep his eyes on hers, but the nervous twitch in them betrayed him. "The doctors…they want me to…they need you to….Éponine, I need to know what happened to you."

"I don't remember," she lied instinctively, immediately knowing the words came out far too quickly. _Dammit, 'Ponine, _she cursed herself.

"I know you're lying," Joly told her bluntly. "I know you have some…problems, but I can't keep the hospital off my back forever. Especially since I'm only a student."

Éponine exhaled slowly, closing her eyes softly as she let herself think. "I was walking home," she began, conjuring up all her years of lying and deception. "A couple guys came out of the alleyway, they tried to mug me. They probably took my paycheck, but I had nothing else on me."

She knew the story would hold: she had nothing in her pockets. All she had had was the note, and that...well, that was left where she came from. To Joly, however, it would look like her paycheck had been stolen. Predictably, he went over to her bag and coat and checked the pockets. Finding nothing there, he gave her a curt nod.

"I'll leave you to rest," he told her blankly as he left, dissatisfaction marring his face. Exhaustion poured through Éponine, the morsels of strength she had left drained by the ten minutes of being awake. Barely able to fight off her weariness, she allowed herself to drift off once more.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I glossed over a lot of stuff. I was always intending to leave out the gap between what happened and the hospital, but wasn't sure about whether or not to have flashbacks or not. Next chapter, I promise, will have all the wonderful juicy details and horrific recollections and emotional trauma. Also some Enjonine fluff.**

**I know the French probably have some form of universal healthcare, but I wasn't sure, and it added another layer to why Éponine wouldn't be able to go to a hospital if they were more like American hospitals. I apologise that nothing in this is probably accurate, at all. Oh, and as of why a student is taking caring of Éponine- he's not. Joly's just working under a resident doctor (again, American way, I only know British and American cultures so I am very sorry French people), and since he knew Éponine, they decided to have him go and talk to her first. Don't worry, actual doctors are tending to her.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**** TRIGGER WARNING. There is a flashback in this chapter. I tried not to drag it on for too long or too get too graphic, but there is a pretty strong trigger warning for abuse, violence, domestic abuse.**

**Also, I'm sorry that some of you were confused by the last chapter. I pretty much immediately regretted my choices with that one, and I'm used to writing oneshots, so this multi-chapter is kinda an experiment for me. I'll try and clear things up for you.**

* * *

The rest of Éponine's time in the hospital was filled with questions, tension, and lying. While most people bought the mugging story, she could tell suspicion had not been erased. If dodging questions hadn't been what her life was based around, she would have cracked. Thankfully, concern overtook questioning, and most of the time she was left alone.

"We need to talk about what we're going to do when you get out of here," Courfeyrac mentioned one afternoon, two weeks after she first awoke in the hospital. Marius and Cosette stood casually in the corner, Marius's armed wrapped around Cosette, and Gavroche was lying by Éponine's side, fast asleep.

"Well, Gavroche is staying with you, isn't he?" Marius asked, looking between Courfeyrac and Éponine. "And you have the most room of any of us."

Courfeyrac was clearly taken off guard, staring openly at Marius with surprise. He looked over at Éponine, contemplating the idea.

"Well, we could certainly take you in," Courf offered with a shrug, gnawing at his lower lip as he thought. "We have a pullout sofa and a spare room, but Enjolras would have to agree, and I don't know how-"

"-There's nothing to agree to," Enjolras interrupted as he swept into the room. All four heads in the room snapped up in surprise, gaping openly at the man's appearance. While Enjolras hadn't been completely absent from the hospital during her stay, he had yet to speak a word, let alone be so direct. He lurked in the corner of her room most of the time, and didn't even acknowledge her existence. Now, he was staring right at her.

"I insist upon it," he finished with a definitive air.

"Are you sure?" Courfeyrac questioned, genuine shock knitting his eyebrows together.

"Completely," he reassured him. "We have the space, and I'll never be one to refuse helping the people."

Éponine heard Cosette mutter, "Oh God" underneath her breath at the same time Marius snapped his head around to wait for her reaction. Courfeyrac simply dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

"I'm not 'the people', I'm a person," Éponine countered, barely keeping the hiss out of her voice. "And I don't need your charity."

"Actually, you do. You've got bone bruising, several broken ribs, a fractured arm and wrist, a concussion, not to mention-"

"I think she knows, Enj," Courf stepped in as he saw the steam begin to rise from Éponine's ears. "Please, Éponine, it's not charity. It's staying with a friend while you need some help getting better and ignoring his dumbass roommate."

Staring down at the little boy beside her, Éponine began to feel her irritation ebb away. Gavroche adored Courfeyrac, and so did she. Maybe, just maybe, she could try and ignore Enjolras for a week or two. For him.

"It's a deal."

* * *

A week later, Éponine found herself once more in Enjolras's car, this time accompanied by Gavroche and Courfeyrac. Enjolras drove slowly, painfully so, glancing over his shoulder every so often to look at her. Courfeyrac had plugged his iPod into the car stereo, and he and Gavroche were singing along to a song she couldn't recognise.

"Let me help you," Enjolras offered after they pulled over by his building. He looped his arm around her waist, hauling her out of his car and onto the pavement.

"I didn't ask for your help," she pointed out, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

"I'm just trying to help you," he sighed, letting go of her to take her bag from the boot. Gritting her teeth, she followed Courfeyrac inside instead of biting back.

Life with Enjolras was easier than she expected. He left before dawn for either work or school or protests, and stayed out all day. When he was home, he shut himself up in his bedroom and worked for hours without end. In a week, she didn't see him eat once.

"Shouldn't we be concerned about him?" she asked Courfeyrac one day. "He's going to work himself to death."

He shrugged, not looking up from the dvd menu screen. "I gave up on Enjolras a long time ago. He's yet to end up in the hospital, so I figure he's okay."

With Enjolras out of her hair, Courfeyrac keeping her company, and Gavroche actually staying in her sight, she could almost enjoy her days, more so than she had enjoyed anything in a long time. However, she always knew a trade would have to be made for those carefree days, and as the sun set, ribbons of terror laced themselves around her bones, strangling her into her sleep.

_The route to the warehouse was still ingrained into her mind, so deeply carved that she could have walked the path with her eyes closed. It still sent chills down her spine as she placed her feet one in front of the other, every muscle in her body trying to pull her around, bring her back home to the boys and Cosette and people who cared. But back to people who cared was back to Gavroche, and Gavroche was who she was doing this for._

_The steel door was just as heavy as it had been the last time she'd been here, months before. The hinges let out a squeal as she pushed against them, rust flying off in every direction. Éponine winced at the sound, but carried on. There was no way to be subtle about this anyway._

_"My my my, look who has finally returned," sneered a voice from the darkness. It was thick and mocking, like a thick slime sliding over her, with the smoothness of glass._

_"Where's my sister?" she demanded, standing up as straight as she could._

_"What makes you think I would know?" he wondered innocently, stepping out of the shadows. His trademark smirk taunted her from across the room._

_"Montparnasse," she breathed, almost pleadingly. "I know you gave the note to my brother. I know you knew he would never tell me himself. Just give me my sister."_

_"Why should I?" he asked, slowly coming towards her. "You're the one who screwed up, Éponine. Not me."  
_

_"If you hurt her, if you touch a hair on her head, if you come on to her or corrupt her or do _anything_ to her," she warned, "I will make it your last act. Don't think I will flinch for a moment."_

_His serpentine smile didn't waver, but she could see the flicker of thought in his eyes. Anyone who knew Éponine for a day knew that she meant what she said, and he knew what she would do to protect people._

_Suddenly he was on top of her, pushing her back into freezing concrete wall behind her. One hand gripped her wrist while the other slid around her neck. Her heart began pounding in her chest, the quickening rhythm sending adrenaline through her veins. Before she could try and defend herself, his foot stepped on hers as if he already knew what she was planning to do._

_"I waited for you, Éponine," he growled. "Your father waited for you. Your poor mother, left all alone. And you thought you could just walk about because you have your bourgeois boy-toys to protect you?"_

_"I don't need bourgeois to protect me from a cowardly piece of scum like you," she snarled, anger overtaking her fear and fire flowing through her veins. She began to struggle against him, fighting to break free of his surprisingly strong grip._

_Hostility flashed across Montparnasse's face like lightening, and suddenly her wrist was thrown against the wall with ferocity. First fracture. __Éponine bit into her lip to keep from crying out._

___"You humiliated me, __Éponine," he hissed through gritted teeth, his hot, heavy breath washing against her face. "Did you really think I'd let you get away so easily? Do you think your father would let go of your labour so easily?"_

_______Éponine stared into his eyes, unflinching. Seconds ticked by like wet sand, his grip tightening on her. The vein in his neck began to throb, her first warning sign._

_______Faster than she could blink, his hand came off from her neck to slap her cleanly across the face._

_______"Come on, 'Ponine, let me have a little fun," he teased, his frustration growing with every silent moment. Before she could think, she spat in his face._

_______With a roar, he threw her back against the wall, the back of her head kissing the concrete with dull thud. Suddenly her hands were clawing at the dusty floor, legs splayed beneath her and blood dripping down her neck._

_______"Montparnasse," she rasped as he delivered a swift blow to her stomach, causing her to crumble to the ground completely. A door at the other end of the room creaked open, the dull hammering of boots padding towards them._

_______"Well look who finally showed up to pay me my dues," came her father's sneer. "Do you have any idea how much I've lost cos of you, you little whore?"_

_______"Do you have any idea how little I care?" she managed to croak, trying to muster the echoes of laughter as a heavy boot came towards her eyes and-_

"Éponine!"

Éponine's hand flew out as a pair of hands gripped her shoulders and hauled her off her pillow. It landed right in the centre of a chest, the buttons of a shirt pressing against her palm. Gasps shook through her body, desperate attempts for air as shivers tore through her.

"Éponine, you're awake, it was just a dream, it was only a dream," soothed the voice of her awakener.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to the intruder, her embarrassment at being caught in her nightmare bringing a flush to her cheeks.

"Enjolras," she breathed in surprise as she recognised her Barista Boy staring down at her. "I..I..where did you-"

"I came home and heard you whimpering in your room," he confessed. "You sounded like you could be hurt, so I went to check up on you, and you started crying out. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have invaded your privacy."

"Thank you," she whispered, cutting him off. "Really. I, uh, wouldn't want to have woken up Courf."

He nodded with understanding, muttering "of course". "C'mon, let's get you some air."

Once more, he wrapped an arm around her waist to help her walk, bringing her out of bed and the flat. Slowly, they ambled to the roof, where he lowered her down onto the bench sitting there.

"I thought you hated it up here," she commented, desperately trying to avoid the elephant in the room. "Courf told me you've been scolding him for taking my brother up here."

"Your brother is ten, and possibly the most hyperactive child I've ever seen in my life," he added. "Would _you_ trust him on a rooftop with Courfeyrac?"

"Fair enough."

"What happened to you?" he suddenly blurted out. "Actually, I mean, I don't want the lie."

"Why should I tell you?" she snapped before she could control herself. He dropped his eyes.

"I'm the one who found you, Éponine," he reminded her softly. "I thought you were dead when I saw you. You will never have any idea how much you frightened me. Please, let me help you."

She lowered her gaze to her hands, biting her lip as she knitted her fingers together in thought. "Question for a question?" she offered.

Enjolras gave a slow nod, unsure of his decision. "Shoot."

"You're rich," she stated blankly. "Why do you work in a coffee shop that you clearly despise?"

"I'm trying to take as little money from my parents as I can," he admitted. "They'd never let me cut myself off, but I can't lead a revolution for the people while I let myself be pampered."

Éponine couldn't hold back a rather loud snort. "Are you serious? You think working in a very nice coffee shop while living in a fancy apartment building and getting money from your rich parents is living like the people?" she laughed.

Enjolras ignored her laughter, but she saw his jaw tighten. "I'm trying to make an effort, I didn't say it was perfect."

"You promised me a question in return," he reminded her. "Who hit you?"

"Next question."

"Fine. _Why_ did they hit you?"

Éponine sighed deeply, contemplating her choices. As much as it pained her, even she couldn't keep a secret forever. "I ran away from home," she told him, forcing the words out of her throat with every muscle. "Five months ago. I haven't been back since, and, well, my family wasn't pleased."

"Wait, then how'd you get the bruises you had?" he asked, immediately realising his error. "Oh God, sorry, Marius...he didn't mean to tell me, he was just really worried, I didn't mean to say anything."

"It's okay," she reassured him, trying to pretend she wasn't fighting the urge to run off and strangle Marius. "The bruises are none of your business."

"I respect that," he shrugged. "If you'll explain to me why you ran away."

"Only if you tell me why you're so stuck-up."

"How can I not be serious when the people of the world are suffering?" he recited, employing his usual theatrical tone. Annoyance began to curdle in Éponine once more.

"I'm spilling my deepest secret to you, the least you can do is tell me the truth," she spat, moving herself as if she were trying to rise. Suddenly his hand was wrapped around her arm, pulling her back down. He let go as quickly as he grabbed her, as if she were made of burning steel.

"I'm sorry, I forgot about your injuries," he mumbled, staring down at his lap like a scolded puppy. "Just...please stay. I'm sorry."

"I've been busy lately," he continued, still not raising his eyes, "Because I'm planning something. Something huge, and I'm not telling everyone until next week's meeting. They're going to think I'm insane unless I have it carefully thought through enough."

She could hear the resistance in his voice, the words being forced out beyond his teeth. She had never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so human. She hadn't realised how much he was entrusting her with.

"I ran away because being in my house was being in hell," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't stand looking at my father's face another day.

"He was the one who hit me," she continued, voice growing just the tiniest bit stronger with every word. "Well, not just him. My ex-boyfriend was angry with me and slapped me around a bit, but once he heard the ruckus, he came in with his gang. When he lost me, he lost all the money I could have made him, he was running the constant risk of me turning him in, and I embarrassed him. He did most of it.

"After a while, Montparnasse realised he and his gang were going too far and tried to get them to stop. My sister came in when she heard him shouting, and she screamed so loud they were sure the police would come." Suddenly Éponine broke off, a ghost of a smile crossing her face. "I taught her that trick," she told him proudly.

"Montparnasse helped me off the ground and I ran for it. I was trying to get to the Musain when I collapsed."

It wasn't until she felt Enjolras's coat draped around her did she realised she was shaking. She could feel his eyes bearing into the side of her head, but she didn't look up.

"Five months ago was when Marius met Cosette," he whispered, leaving the question obvious but unasked.

"I think the question balance is a little off here," she reminded him, desperate to keep the attention off herself. Never in her life had she opened up to someone like that. Talking to Enjolras was just easy, as uppity and obnoxious as he was. As uncomfortable as she felt with his eyes on her, she didn't feel pitied or patronized. Once she had begun talking, it was hard for her to stop.

"Fine. Ask me something."

"Why do you bother?" she blurted out less eloquently than she would have liked.

Enjolras looked at her in genuine confusion, cocking a heavy eyebrow at her.

"With this," she explained, motioning aimlessly around them. "With me. With working and meetings and trying to fix everyone else's life, trying to fix the country, when you're safe at home in your mahogany bed and silk sheets."

Enjolras almost looked happy to hear the question, as if he finally had a simple answer. "When I was a kid," he began easily, shoulders relaxing, "I'd take the train to school every morning. Oh shut up, I can see you giggling at me. Anyway, on my way to my the train, in my blazer and tie with my hair combed by my mother, I'd have to walk past beggars and prostitutes and starving children. One day, when I was twelve, there was a little boy curled up on the pavement. I thought he was sleeping, so I didn't think about it. When I came home, he was still there. I didn't realise until the next day that he was dead.

"The day after, I started asking questions. Nearly got myself kicked out of school. I wanted to know why there were so many sad people, why people were hungry when we had plenty of food, why my dad made us cross the street when we came near someone who just looked cold or hungry. I didn't understand how a little boy died alone in the street with no one to even realise he was dead. Or at least no one to care. Once I realised what the world really was, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time I tied my tie or laced up patent leather shoes, I felt so useless,_ pathetic,_ like I was being used. That was the year I started getting into volunteer work and studying the government. I guess it just kinda grew from there."

As he spoke, the muscles in his back grew rigid, eyes glazing over at the memory. Éponine couldn't help but marvel at how even now, in casual conversation, he had the same fiery passion and clipped inflection that he did when he was lecturing Les Amis on whatever political uproar had infuriated him lately. When he talked, he used his whole body, throwing his hands in the air and rolling his shoulders, constantly shifting his facial expression with each word. It was, dare she say the word, _adorable_.

"You're a lot more human than you make yourself seem, y'know," she teased him. "I was told you were such a man of marble."

"Just because I don't choose to focus on the individual when there is a world in peril doesn't mean I don't have emotions," he grumbled in response.

"The world is still in peril," she mused. "Why are you focusing on me?"

"Because I've never been so fucking terrified in my entire life, Éponine!" he snapped, causing Éponine wince instinctively. His eyes flicked back to her in alarm, as if he wanted to say something else, but he dropped them again.

"I think we've had enough questions for tonight," Éponine murmured. "Good night, Enjolras. Get some sleep."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked, immediately standing up to assist her. "I can help you, get you something to help you sleep, I think Courfeyrac has some kind of tea..."

"I'll be fine," she interrupted him, waving away his concern. "Really. Just go to bed, you're tired."

Before he managed to begin his protests, she turned hastily to get herself down off the roof, trying to keep ahead of his footsteps behind her. Gritting her teeth to keep her wheezing gasps to the minimum, she clambered through the door and collapsed onto her bed, beads of sweat forming in her temples from the effort. Her cheeks were flushed and her heart hammered against her rib cage. She hadn't realised how much she had relied on Enjolras on the way up.

Still, the pain was worth it to satisfy the discomfort chewing in her mind, the nagging flea burrowing into her thoughts. Never in her life had she revealed so much about herself. Never in her life had she put herself in a position of this level of vulnerability. A panic was rising in her, her rationality once again resurfacing. Yet, she trusted him. She trusted the way he pushed and pushed at her secrets, yet fell back when she said "No". She trusted the sincerity in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch. She trusted the way she couldn't get the memory of his smile out of her mind.

Éponine was so deeply swathed in her confusion, she didn't realise she had fallen asleep with his coat still wrapped around her.


End file.
